


Rainy Day Surprises

by crimsonpetals



Series: Rainy Day Surprises [1]
Category: Logan Lucky
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:47:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26536780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonpetals/pseuds/crimsonpetals
Summary: My first time writing, thought I’d dip my toes in with some soft sasquatch!Clyde!
Relationships: Clyde Logan/Reader, Sasquatch!Clyde/Reader
Series: Rainy Day Surprises [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929607
Kudos: 8





	Rainy Day Surprises

It’s nearing fall when he first sees you, exploring the forest he calls his home. Rain is gently beginning to fall, the one thing about this time of year that he hates, the rain making him smell like a wet dog, the mud caused by the rain caking at the fur on his feet and his legs, making his stance wider than he’d like it to be.

The one thing he hates, seems to be something you love. He’s watching you from just beyond your sight, hiding behind a couple of trees, blending in thanks to his fur. He’s watching how you spread your arms, the arms so clean of fur, his head lowering under a branch to try and get a better view of you. He’s tilting his head as he watches you spin slowly, your head turning up to relish in the rain as it falls, your feet tangling with a tuft of grass on the ground beneath you, making you stumble a little before falling with a gasp onto the ground.

He hears you laugh as you press your hands and fingers into the grass, reveling in the way the wet grass feels between your fingers, his lungs releasing a puff of air he hadn’t known he’d been holding in, and as he goes to step, wanting to disappear before you can be scared of him like all the others had been before, a branch snaps under his foot and he’s letting his face tilt down as a pout presses itself into his features, looking back up a second later in your direction, seeing you look at him through the branches of the trees.

He fears what happens next, knows it’s because of what he is, how he looks, the one hand missing from an accident he didn’t like remembering. He hates the screams of men and women who’ve seen him before who had turned and ran. But as he looks at you, he sees your eyes widen in curiosity, your head tilt as you lean to get a closer look, or as close a look as you can get from your spot in the middle of the field.

He doesn’t hear a scream, feels a small sense of relief at your curiosity instead of fear, and he’s watching as you get up, hands wiping at the knees of your pants before you straighten, your eyes still on him from a distance as you walk closer, and by the small bit of fear in his body still making him crouch a little as you get closer, his instincts screaming at him to disappear, run until you can’t see him, until you wouldn’t be able to find him, but something about the way your face looks, how slowly you’re approaching with curiosity instead of fear makes him want to stay, his jaw working as he keeps pouting, his head tilting a little as he watches as you enter the trees, the branches now covering you from most of the clouds given rain.

He watches as you get closer, until you’re close enough he’s sure you can smell how horrible he smells, how matted he looks thanks to the past two days full of rain and mud, his body staying crouched as he watches you get close enough to look up at him, his height still well over yours even in his crouch.

He lets out a soft grunt, his eyes searching yours and your face as his lower lip wobbles a little as you reach a hand up to caress his cheek, your fingers being the softest thing he’d felt in years, possibly ever. His head instinctively tilts into your touch, his eyes closing as he lets down his guard for just a second before his eyes open again, looking down at you and how you look up at him in wonder.

He grunts again, his mind racing as he looks down at you, his hand shaking slightly as it comes up to your own cheek, his fingers exploring the gentle give of your skin as he tries his best to be gentle with you, his eyes searching yours as he looks down at you, his heart racing as he takes his hand back, not sure if you’d had wanted him to touch you.

You frown a little, at the way he looks when he takes his hand away from your cheek, as if he was terrified that you’d freak out, as if you hadn’t had plenty of time to already freak out if you were going to. You take your own hand off of his cheek, looking up at him still as your own heart and mind race, your wonderment on if he’d even been real having been quelled the moment your fingers met actual flesh instead of a mirage like you’d thought.

Your mind shorts, and for a second you forget how to speak until you hear her another grunt, seeing him rise to his full height with a pout still on his features, and that sight alone sparks you to speak, “Hi, I didn’t think you were real, or that you even existed.”

His brain tries as it might to follow along, only catching some of the words he’d already heard from past humans and how they’d spoken of him after seeing him, trying to find him again even if they knew they wouldn’t. He lets out a soft grunt, his brows furrowing as he tilts his head, lifting a hand to press against his chest, wondering just how you humans told each other it was safe, and that he wouldn’t hurt you. His voice is low, just the hints of a southern drawl as he speaks one word, one word he’d grown to know as his name, given to him by his mother in his first few years of life, “Clyde.”

You smile up at him, giving him your own name in return before you hear a rustling of the trees leaves as the wind shifts, causing you to shiver and scold yourself inside your head at only being smart enough to wear a long sleeve shirt and pants with your hiking boots. And at the wind shift you frown, knowing the sun was setting behind the gorgeous clouds carrying the rain, knowing that you could see the sun setting just between the leaves at the tops of the trees you’d become surrounded in on your way to him, to Clyde.

You frown again as you look up, meeting his soft eyes as you speak again, “I have to go, I have to but I can be back tomorrow, if you’ll..” You pause, not sure if he understands then with the way his head tilts, brows furrowed as he tries to understand the words coming from you, and then you get an idea, a spark as you lift your hand to cover his, “Tomorrow. Meet here, Clyde. Right here.” You point at the ground then, and he understands that, the words tomorrow and here clicking in his own mind as he nods then, jaw working as he pouts, knowing he still has a trek back to his own cave, knowing he’ll still smell tomorrow, that he’ll still be dirty tomorrow.

He looks down at the sight of your fingers brushing through his fur, and before he can stop it a gentle purr rumbles through his chest, and his eyes light up as he looks back up at you, his voice stuttered and low as he sounds out the words, “T-tomorrow, h-here.”

When you hear him speak again, understanding your words you lean up a little onto your toes, hoping to not scare him away as you press a gentle kiss to his cheek, smiling as you look up at him as you rest back down on your feet. “Be safe Clyde.”

He grunts softly, fingers lifting to brush against your own cheek again before he nods, his hand dropping back to his side as he watches you back away, “Safe.” His frown is prominent then, watching as you turn to make your way back into the clearing, and then across it before disappearing into the trees on the other side, and it’s only when he can’t hear your feet rustling on the ground full of leaves anymore that he turns to make his way back to his cave, his mind full of you and how you’d been gentle, how you’d touched him, how you’d spoken to him even if he couldn’t understand some words.

When he reaches his cave he settles down onto the ground of it, not wanting to mess up his own little sleep space that he uses when he’s clean, his eyes open and staring up at the glistening cracks in the caves ceiling, you devouring his every thought as he slips into a sleep, a sleep filled with you, with what he hopes you’d be like with him tomorrow, how you’d be in the future if you decide he’s worth seeing.

You make it safe and sound back to your own place, having hiked there from a small trailer at the edges of the forest, your thoughts filled with him and how gentle he’d been despite being so much taller, so much bigger. As you strip out of the now wet clothes, sinking into a hot bath to relax your muscles and get the chill out of your bones, you think of him, hoping he’s safe and sound wherever he ended up for the night, hoping he’s settled in somewhere to be dry for the night as you listen to the rain hitting the top of the trailer.

Once you get out of the tub, you dry off as best as you can, forgoing a dinner mostly to help tomorrow come sooner, getting dressed in your soft sleep shorts, a gentle T-shirt adorning your top before you settle into the mattress, looking out the window at the rain still falling before you wish a goodnight to Clyde as you let your eyes close with a soft sigh.


End file.
